ESCAPE || fly&&basil

[storm]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background: #fafafa; padding: 15px; border-left: #eee solid 05px; border-bottom: #eee solid 05px; box-shadow: #ccc -1px 1px 1px;] [/style][style= color: #999; font-family: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; float: left; width: 100px; margin-top: -70px; background: #eee; margin-left: 15px; padding: 05px; box-shadow: #ccc 1px 1px 1px; text-transform: uppercase;]770 WORDS. NO MORE DREAMING LIKE A GIRL SO IN LOVE WITH THE WRONG WORLD. Creekpaw sighed as he stared out into the darkness of the early morning sky. The warmth of the day had faded that night and only a hardly luke warm wind could be offered. From comforting to chilling, everything in this world is rather fleeting...even my own life will be short compared to the one of my Clan and this earth. The small tom thought, wide frog green eyes sparkling thoughtfully to the star-speckled sky. Laying his chin to rest on his paws, the young feline sighed softly, gaze unwavering as it stared up at the lights of his ancestors. Will I live on? Is there truly a StarClan or are those stars just holes in the sky? I suppose these questions are common,hm? But I can't help wondering if he's up there. Bouldertooth... sniffling softly at the thought of his beloved father, Creekpaw tried to remember what he looked like and how his voice had sounded. All of these were lost, broken memories. Probably my brain keeping me from hurting myself further with those vivid memories of his life...but why block me from every single detail? Why let me only remember bloodied water? another sigh blew from his maw as the stubby apprentice rose from his warm nest. Seeing as he was closest to the entrance of the den out of preference, it only took one step to be into the open darkness of the sleeping camp. Blinking his flooded eyes, Creekpaw looked around the camp to the warriors den. There, he could see the slumbering bodies of the few whom slept near the opening of the den. Several snores drifted over to the sensitive ears of the gray tom, making them twitch slightly. Sleep that deep can only be obtained by those with nothing to be afraid of. I for one,have plenty to fear. Too much... His paw-steps were muted by the chirping of crickets and the occasional call of an owl. The forest was where he was headed. It was pitch dark in the canopy of trees, but it didn't frighten Creekpaw like it would most. He welcomed the dark and night sounds. All of it was rather peaceful to him. After all, what was there to fear if one had no fear of dying? Sure, he was afraid of his mother's death, but anything that could potentially harm the hefty tom mattered not. Physical pain is nothing to the emotional torture I survive daily....nothing at all. A tremble rippled through the thickly built cat the memories of yesterday. He had gone through the usual treatment: Butterflypaw's harsh words and narcissistic comments just to put Creekpaw into a sense of shame. Then, Weaselpaw had felt it appropriate to comment on Creekpaw's short, stubby stature and how he was often lost in thought. The insults were endless and echoed in the gray and white tom's ears, haunting him and coaxing pitiful whimpers from deep in his chest. This world is cruel...truly...disgusting. Stumbling into a clearing littered in fragrant flowers Creekpaw blinked as he took in the bright moonlight that flooded the place. This paradise radiated peace and calmed the gray feline almost instantly. The gurgling of the nearby river, soothing scents of lavender, poppy, tulip, and daisies, and especially the beautiful sight of the silver-bathed clearing made Creekpaw's heart swell. Oh, StarClan...this is so....so.....breath-taking...and you sent me here to calm myself, didn't you? Thank you, thank you for this new get away from that hell! grinning radiantly, the solid gray tom pranced on his snowy white paws in circles, bucking and giggling in a gleeful dance around his flowery heaven. After dizzying himself to the point of collapsing into the colorful flowers, Creekpaw smiled up at the bright, vibrant moon and sighed. This time, the sigh was happy, breathless. It was full of warmth and freedom. This is where my soul shall live forever more...that retched camp is just a place I reside in the nightmare of daylight. My own flower-filled heaven at last has been found! With that, the young tom drifted into sleep under the shadow of a low-hanging willow next to the river, snoring softly. He was a gray and white pile next to the trunk and dented the bed of sweet spring grass and beautiful white, purple, and red flowers. Opening his eyes to the scent of another, Creekpaw rolled from his side to his stomach, dull green gaze staring at the source of the familiar scent. What's his name again? Ugh, I you'd think I'd remember the name of a handsome tom.... he thought with a frown as he continued to stare at the ginger and white tom before him. BASILPAW

MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY ✖

[flyaway]

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….He dreamed of Shadestar. The lithe beautiful black she-cat was standing outside the warrior’s den, a loving smile on her jaws. She sat, her tail flicking out and around from her paws. Her neck was tilted back, her muzzle pointed towards the sky. Basilpaw sensed her, before really realizing she was there. He took a moment, pausing to admire her. She was beautiful, in an ethereal sort of way. And as he watched her, he almost imagined she glowed. He approached her, carefully, quietly as always.


“You’re late. I don’t have all day to wait for you.” She had a smile playing on her lips. And as Basilpaw watched her, something niggled in the back of his mind. Confusion clouded his gaze. The smile that had been on his lips faltered. He struggled to name what it was he was supposed to remember. He knew there was something, something crucial. He needed to remember what it was. But Shadestar’s eager smile made him want to forget, to push it all away. So Basilpaw forced a smile, nodding and laughing a laugh that sounded slightly hollow. That niggling feeling just wouldn’t go away. “I’m sorry Shadestar, I’m here now.” Shadestar made a teasingly impatient sound, apparently oblivious to her apprentice’s uncertainty. With a bound, she set off towards the camp entrance, looking over her shoulder at Basilpaw. She quirked an eyebrow, calling out, “Aren’t you coming?” With another bound, she vanished from site, through the thick brambles around the camp’s entrance. A sudden feeling of panic set in, sending Basilpaw’s heart racing. But for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. It all had something to do with that thing – that thing he had to remember. He pushed it away, allowing himself to break into a terrified sprint.

He shot from the camp, looking around wildly. His chest heaved, his eyes rolled, until they settled on Shadestar. His mentor was sitting just outside the camp, watching her apprentice with confusion. Basilpaw’s hammering heart settled, he caught his breath, suddenly feeling foolish. He gave his chest a few swift licks, watching Shadestar with some form of stammering confusion. “I…I thought something had happened to you.” Shadestar pursed her lips for a moment, staring at him. There was something off about her, something Basilpaw couldn’t place. The confusion in his mentor’s eyes was replaced by an even stare. The beautiful she-cat spoke again in her high melodical voice. “Something did happen to me.” But before Basilpaw could question, or even recover from his shock, Shadestar was bounding away again. The niggling feeling was growing, into something akin to a painful throb. It was beating at his mind, begging him to remember. Basilpaw reached for it desperately, for that little thing he needed to know. But it seemed to float through his frantic paws, just out of reach. He followed his mentor, growing fearful. What was so horrible, so important, that he needed to know?

Basilpaw caught up to Shadestar. The youthful leader was keeping an easy pace, seemingly tireless. Basilpaw puffed slightly, though Shadestar seemed unaffected. He spoke between breaths. “What happened to you?” His mentor didn’t even look at him, her gaze never strayed from the path ahead. The lithe she-cat bounded ahead, easily distancing herself from Basilpaw. As she did so, she called over his shoulder. “Don’t you remember, Basilpaw?” Basilpaw found suddenly that he couldn’t keep up. Shadestar was loping easily ahead, always remaining just a few fox-lengths in front of her apprentice. As a perplexed Basilpaw watched, his mentor began to change. Clumps of fur hung from her. Blood matted and stained her coat. Muscle was visible where skin and fur should have been. One ear was completely gone. But that vision was gone almost as soon as it had come. Basilpaw skidded to a stop in horror, trying desperately to understand just what was happening, what he was seeing. Shadestar didn’t pause. The flash of gore was gone, replaced by her usual soft coat. She called out again, though her voice seemed farther away. “Don’t you remember, Basilpaw?”

He awoke with a start, his chilling dream still clinging to his waking consciousness. Uncontrollably, he awoke with a screech. His eyes were wide, full of terror and grief. It was a wordless scream, a plea to Starclan that went unanswered. Basilpaw had taken to spending his nights out here by the river, where none would be woken by his nightmares. Each time he slept – it was similar. Shadestar appeared to him, lulled him to comfort. But each time she left him. Each time she abandoned him. And he awoke to the crippling grief as fresh and new as it had ever been. He had lost weight. He had always been a thin lithe form, but he was reaching a point where it became unhealthy. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care, to do anything. He slowly became aware of Creekpaw, his fellow apprentice, waiting at his side. Basilpaw’s eyes became vacant, focused on the water.

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